


Wedding Present

by Annehiggins



Series: Bring It On (Bito) [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 07:26:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annehiggins/pseuds/Annehiggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Bones get a wedding present from Ambassador Spock. Posted to Live Journal June 7, 2009.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wedding Present

  
**Wedding Present**  
By Anne Higgins

James T. Kirk walked into the dorm room he'd lived in for the past three years and smiled. His roommate, best friend and husband of two-days lay sprawled across their bed sound asleep wearing nothing more than the trousers of his Academy uniform. All tucked around Jim's pillow, Leonard McCoy looked absolutely adorable, and Jim's hands itched to get hold of him, but none of that. Jim was a married man now. That meant he was all nice and responsible and caring and would never dream of waking up his poor, tired spouse. Right. Fuck that, he decided and pounced.

"Damnit, Jim!" Bones bellowed, startled out of his sleep. Jim cut off the inevitable, long list of his failings as a human being with his usual method – kissing the shit out of him. Which, by a happy coincidence, was the best way to get the cranky bastard to forgive him for any and all offenses.

Sure enough Bones shifted to wrap his arms around Jim not to push him away. Of course, he wouldn't be Leonard McCoy if he didn't complain at the first opportunity. "Brat," Bones sighed into Jim's mouth. "What am I going to do with you?"

"You could spank me," he said giving him his best suggestive leer.

Bones chuckled, his hands sliding down Jim's body to grip the ass on offer. "Too tired to do the opportunity justice. Maybe later. Got something more an old man's speed?"

Jim grinned, "Hmm, guess you could just lie there and let me fuck myself stupid."

A sudden hardness pushed against Jim's thigh proving parts of Bones were wide awake and all for the plan. He gave Bones a quick, but deep kiss, then shimmied off the bed. He shed his uniform with well-practiced speed, then retrieved the tube of lube from the bedside stand all in the time it took Bones to kick off his trousers and underwear "God, you’re gorgeous," Jim murmured, still amazed by the idea that the mouth-watering body spread out before him was his and his alone to love. 

Jim’s cock twitched eagerly as his husband – his husband! – arched an eyebrow, then said, "I think that’s my line."

"No, I'm awesome. You're gorgeous."

That earned him an eye roll. Jim maintained Bones had a special one just for him – one that simply oozed sarcasm laced with affection. Bones maintained this proved Jim was not only egotistical, but delusional as well. Which, as far as Jim was concerned, proved _his_ point

He grinned again – something he did a lot of around Bones. Always had. If he lived forever, Jim would never figure out how he'd managed to keep himself from realizing he'd fallen in love with Bones three years ago. But who knew 'I may throw up on you' would turn out to be code for 'I'm the love of your life, moron'?

"You don't think I'm awesome?" he asked, feigning a pout while giving the tube of lube a gentle shake – couldn't hurt to remind the man hell might freeze over enough for Jim to deny him sex.

Bones snorted, but then his glare softened and he whispered, "Completely. Now come here."

Jim straddled his husband's hips and snapped the top off the lube. He didn't need to use much. They'd gone at it pretty hot and heavy last night and again this morning – hell, they were on their honeymoon even if they couldn't get away for an actual vacation – so he only took a few seconds to get himself ready. A quick up then back shift of his own hips and he sighed happily sinking balls deep on Bone's cock. All sorts of sappy things about feeling complete fluttered through his mind, but he manfully resisted saying any of them and let his eyes do all the talking instead.

Bones signaled message received by cupping the back of Jim's neck and drawing him down into a long, deep kiss. Perfect except he couldn't stay fully penetrated and kiss at the same time, so the moment it ended, he wiggled backward until he once again felt the press of his husband's balls. Damn, so good. First to admit he was an absolute slut for this. Never get enough of it. Never.

The stroke of thumbs across his nipples made him hiss and squirm with pleasure, then he moaned when the touch turned into pinches. It got his hips moving, up and down in fast, shallow thrusts that rubbed his sweet spot every time. He could come like this – had on many occasions – but one of the hands playing with his nipples dropped to his cock and took it in a firm grasp that made Jim's head spin. Bones' hands on him. Surgeon's hands as skilled as every randy joke ever made them out to be and more. On him. Stroking him, squeezing him. With a loud moan he came, riding waves of pleasure too strong for him to regret not lasting longer. He sagged forward, falling against Bones chest while the cock inside him pulsed in its own release.

With all the sex partners who'd come before – and he'd long ago lost count – Jim had always felt energized. Not so much by the sex, but the desire to get gone in the aftermath. With Bones, even from that first 'friends with benefits' coupling, he'd always let himself enjoy the blessed out lethargy and snuggled close. Not going anywhere. Never. Not letting Bones go. Never. Ever. And he smiled, letting himself twilight, all snug and happy.

Some time later, he felt Bones gently rubbing his back, something that never failed to both relax, yet wake Jim up. Apparently never, ever had run smack into the demands of the fucking clock and yet somewhere else they had to be. "This honeymoon sucks," he muttered, trying to hide by burrowing into the nearest armpit.

Bones laughed. "Come on, Jim. It's time for all good starship captains to get their pretty asses out of bed and ready for dinner."

Dinner? Oh, yeah, they were meeting Spock, Uhura, Sulu, Chekov and Scotty for drinks and dinner. "Don't wanna," he muttered, snuggling tighter, then he grinned against Bones' chest. "You said I have a pretty ass."

Bones brought his hand down on the part in question, and Jim yelped. He rubbed his stinging backside and gave his husband an accusing look. It made Bones smile. "Prettiest in all of Starfleet, now get it into the shower."

"Fine," he huffed and got out of bed, then stopped to glare at their bathroom and its perfectly practical sonic shower. No exotic honeymoon hotel meant no hot water showers to share and that totally sucked.

"Jim. …"

"I'm going, I'm going," he grumbled, but paused in the doorway to give his 'prettiest ass in Starfleet' a little shimmy to punish the bastard. Bones threw a pillow at him so mission accomplished.

Satisfied he took the standard one minute turn in the stupid, utterly unsexy shower. All clean and fresh, he stalked back into the bedroom to put on a uniform of an equally clean and fresh description. A cadet uniform. Even though his promotion to captain and posting to the _Enterprise_ had been announced yesterday morning, he wouldn't be able to wear the appropriate uniform until after graduation. Could have promoted him to a fucking admiral and he'd still have had to wear it. He sighed. Two more weeks. He could handle two more weeks.

He turned toward the bed and scowled at Bones, who looked both debauched and totally not ready to go out in public. "Your turn," he said pointedly.

Bones smirked and made a show of sitting up, then stretching artfully. Bright hazel eyes dancing with mischief, he sat there and scratched at the streaks of dried semen decorating his torso. 

Jim's eyes narrowed and he fought the urge to dive right back into bed. "I hate you."

Which only made Bones smirk harder. Bastard. But he did finally roll off the bed and make his way toward the bathroom. He paused to thoroughly kiss Jim, and damn it was hot having all that glorious naked skin pressed up against his uniform.

Laughing, Bones pulled back and gave Jim's 'too tired to really do anything about it' cock a pat. Then the bitch waltzed into the bathroom, leaving Jim to wonder if this might all qualify for domestic abuse or at least taunting a superior officer or something. Knowing it would take Bones twice as long to get ready since he had to shave – "And if you'd just take a beard suppresser like the rest of us!" – he went over to check the com panel.

"They leave a funny taste in my mouth," came the expected grumbled response.

Jim rolled his eyes, then frowned, wondering if Bones was having a bad influence on him. Ah, well. He glanced over the list of non-urgent messages they'd been allowing to accumulate between meetings and honeymoon stuff. "Huh, we got a message from Admiral Pike."

"'We?'"

He read through the brief message and frowned. "Yeah, he wants to see both of us. Earliest convenience. Shouldn't take long."

Bones sighed. "Usually means three hours minimum."

True enough. "We could always pretend I didn't look at the stupid messages until tomorrow morning." Except that it was Pike. Pathetic though it might be, the six times Pike had checked in with Jim during the last three years had made him the closest thing to a father-figure Jim had, and he didn't like the idea of brushing him off like some self-important big shot.

Bones stepped out of the bathroom and gave Jim a long assessing look. "Let him know we're available."

Being known that well made Jim feel all warm inside – not to mention it was scary as fuck. It made him blush slightly and duck his head like some idiot teenager. A warm hand against his cheek, a gentle nudge to tilt his head up, then Bones' lips pressed against his in a gentle, loving touch. "Call the man," Bones said when he drew back, "and let me take my goddamned shower in peace!"

"Love you, too," he sighed, happily ogling the retreating bare backside. Such a shame his captain powers didn't let him keep his delectable CMO naked at all times. Then again, who wanted to share the sight of that?

In the short time it took Bones to shower and dress, Jim had called the Admiral and had been told now was good. "Right. Be there in five then. Kirk out."

"His office?"

"No, his quarters and don't even act like you weren't planning on reading him the riot act about taking it easy if he'd still been in his office." Given his highly successful recruitment of one James T. Kirk, Pike had been put in charge of Academy recruiting until he recovered enough to take a more active posting.

Bones tilted his head to acknowledge the point. "What can I say, Jim? I’m a doctor not a diplomat, and the man's just had major neurological surgery. Less than sixty years ago he'd have been permanently paralyzed, not deciding what color he wants his office walls."

Yeah, sixty years ago or now with a lesser doctor than Leonard McCoy on hand. Maybe three other doctors in the entire fucking galaxy, let alone Starfleet, who could have pulled it off, yet Bones refused to acknowledge Pike's happy ending mostly rested on the shoulders of Dr. McCoy. So Jim kept any sweet nothings about how brilliant Bones was to himself, but it didn't stop him from using his eyes to say 'you're fucking wonderful' every chance he got.

A small smile pulled at one corner of Bones' mouth. "Don't get all sappy on me, kid," he muttered and headed for the door. "We've got an admiral waiting on us."

They didn't hold hands as they walked across the campus to the visiting VIP quarters. It was no more part of who they were than sappy pet names that could end up being blurted out at the wrong time in front of the wrong crew member, but Jim smiled each time their shoulders brushed together.

More than a few cadets snapped to attention as they walked by, something they absolutely did not have to do until Jim graduated, but, hey, he got it. They'd put his face on all the hero stuff that had pulled Earth's ass out of the fire, and they needed to acknowledge the debt. So he gave each one of them a slight nod of thanks and to send them on their way. It was faster and easier than stopping to tell everyone yet again how he hadn't done it all, that by luck and a little trickery he'd ended up in charge of a phenomenal crew. But he had made certain to say exactly that to everyone who interviewed him, who tried to paint him as the lone hero. Bones said it was one of the signs he'd be a captain worthy of his crew, and maybe it was. But in the end it was simply the right thing to do.

Admiral Christopher Pike smiled when they entered his sitting room. "Jim, Leonard, good to see you," he said, shaking hands with both of them. "I'd offer both of you a drink, but my doctor said I can't indulge for another few months and I'm just surly enough about it to make others share my misery."

Jim grinned. "Sounds like a real bastard."

"Oh, believe me, he is."

"Damn right I am," Bones agreed. "And I'll make certain my replacement at the hospital is one, too. No patient of mine is going to suffer a set-back because of some soft-hearted idiot indulging him."

Pike smiled that half-amused, half-approving smile he must have perfected years ago, then gestured toward the sofa. "Have a seat, gentlemen." He maneuvered his wheelchair into a position near enough for Jim to designate it social versus official. "I assume you are both aware of the debate consuming the Admiralty."

"About what to do with Ambassador Spock's knowledge of the future? Yes, sir." While everything had probably been changed by the timeline shift, some events might repeat. Given the mistakes undoubtedly made in that other future, the opportunities lost, there were those who wanted the Vulcan to tell everything he knew. Others maintained it was like a Prime Directive situation and that the timeline had been damaged enough so it was time to let well enough alone. Given how sick of needless death everyone was, it seemed unlikely the 'keep it to himself' side would win out, but none of it would or should become common knowledge.

Pike nodded. "In the end what is or is not told will be up to the Ambassador, but before he left Earth he approached me with some information." He sighed. "Apparently in the alternate timeline I captained the _Enterprise_ for a little more than 11 years before you took over, Jim. Spock was my science officer. He told me that in honor of that service I would do well to make rigorous inspection of baffle plates aboard class J starships a priority." He smiled again, but it was a grim one, then he gave his chair a tap. "Apparently there are far worse fates than confinement to this for a year." The haunted look in Pike's eyes made Jim's skin crawl, but it vanished quickly enough.

"Apparently I was … would have been a fleet captain at the time." Pike shook his head slightly. "Anyway, he gave me odds with a number ten digits long against it happening again, but he wanted to make certain. The thing is the odds against even the most routine mission under your command reoccurring are twice that." He snorted. "Hell, where he came from tribbles were considered biohazards instead of everyday pets. And if that doesn't tell you what sort of distortion the _Kelvin's_ destruction caused, I don't know what does."

Add to that the lives lost aboard 47 Klingon warbirds, the crews of six Federation vessels and six billion Vulcan souls plus the gravitational pull of three singularities where none had once been. … Yeah, whole new ballgame.

"That's what will tip the scales from arguing against him saying anything to begging for any scrap of information he can give us – not the poor odds of something happening again, but of what won't that should have." He shifted in the chair and Jim noticed the small look of satisfaction on Bones' face when Pike's legs moved. "It shouldn't surprise anyone that _Enterprise_ seemed to have a particular talent for blundering into situations and preventing disaster. In 2268 one of those encounters involved an asteroid on a collision course with Daran V. Turned out it was a ship carrying the last of the Fabrini civilization. They had an extensive medical database which includes the cure for xenopolycythemia."

"Xenowhat?"

"Genetic blood disease, Jim," Bones said. "Causes the loss of all red blood cells. Kills no more than 320 a year, which means it's low priority for researchers."

"So it's good there's a cure now," Jim said part of him mystified as to why Pike was telling them all of this, while another part started ringing alarm bells.

Pike nodded, then looked at Bones which made those alarms ring even louder. _No, don't look at Bones, keep looking at me._

"The Fabrini cure involves several doses of a drug that causes extreme pain. It took the other you 40 years after its discovery to modify it down to a single uncomfortable treatment." Pike held out a padd. "Both formulas and treatment protocols are on this."

Jim felt something inside him unclench as Bones took it, then skimmed through the data. The Ambassador must have decided it made no sense to let others die and suffer while Starfleet found the asteroid-ship and Bones found the time to be brilliant, but he wanted Bones to still get some credit. Nothing to worry about. Nothing.

Bones sighed. "Which one of us has it?"

What? No!

Pike's lips curled under into a grim line. "You do."

"No!" Jim snapped, leaping to his feet, his fists clenched as if the news were something he could fight. "The timeline changes-"

Bones' hand gripped his shoulder. "Wouldn't matter, Jim. It's something I'd have been born with."

Fatal disease. Fatal disease inside his Bones. "No," he denied it again. "All the tests we've gone through. …" he trailed off. The other McCoy would have had them, too, but. ..

"None of the health screens check for the disease in its dormant state, Jim. It's too rare and needs a special test to detect. It has to go active before it registers on a general scan. Patient has a year left after that."

Jim stood there staring at his husband and absolutely, positively wanted to fall apart. He told himself not to be stupid. There was a cure and an admiral in the room and he was a captain not a baby and … A choked sound escaped his throat and Bones cupped his face. "We'll go to the hospital right now," he told Jim. "I'll be rid of this by breakfast."

Which might have calmed him down if he really were a frightened little kid, but he was a starship captain with a genius-level IQ. "He … the Ambassador's not a doctor. He might have remembered it wrong."

Bones nodded. "Which is why I'll test it before I use it, but Vulcan's retain information like computers. Odds are good, he remembered it correctly."

And if he hadn't? Jim fought down the screaming fear inside him. If he hadn't, Jim had nine years and the best ship in the fleet to find the Fabrini and nothing would stop him from doing so. "So, hospital. Now."

"Yeah," he answered, taking hold of Jim's hand. "Admiral, if you'll excuse us."

Whatever Pike did or did not say got lost in the roar inside Jim's head. Fatal disease. Cure. Fatal. _Don't leave me. God, don't leave me._ Fatal. Despite the inner turmoil, he somehow managed to appear calm on the outside as they walked – walked when he wanted to run, wanted to have Scotty beam them straight to the hospital less than ten minutes away. Don't leave. Don't.

He even found himself still doing the courtesy-nod thing to everyone leaping to attention, but he refused to let go of Bones' hand. And Bones seemed equally determined to hang on. It made for an awkward moment when they reached the hospital lab and they both knew Bones needed his hands free.

Jim solved the problem by drawing him close and kissing him. A shallow, but long kiss that eased some of the aching fear inside him. "Don't you fucking leave me," he whispered as he let lips and hands part.

Bones touched his face. "I won't. I've got too damned much to live for."

He nodded and forced himself to step back, then sink into a chair as close as he could get without being in the way. He would have loved to have had an army of Klingons to fight, but he did all he could – he hailed his command crew and told them dinner was off, then sat and waited.

It didn't take long. The computer simulations all verified the effectiveness of the Fabrini and Other McCoy cures, while another test verified Bones did indeed have the disease – because timeline shift or no, Bones was a doctor and he wasn't about to take some pointy-eared Hobgoblin's word as reason enough to blindly treat any patient. Himself included.

About the time they should have been ordering dessert, Bones had a hypospray full of the new drug and the two of them secured in a private room. "It really will be all over by morning, Jim," he said stripping off his uniform, then pulling on a set of scrubs. "But I'm in for an uncomfortable night."

"How uncomfortable?" he asked, fixing his best 'and don't fucking lie to me' glare on him.

He didn't answer for a moment while he secured the small bio blockers that would temporarily suppress any embarrassing bodily functions. "Worst case of the flu you've ever had without the respiratory crap. Doubled."

Fuck. "Can you put yourself out?"

Bones nodded, and damned if he didn't look at Jim all worried about him instead of himself. "But you'll be alone."

"The hell with me," he snapped furious that he couldn't hide his fears better. "I want you out."

He looked like a man about to give him an argument, so Jim whispered, "I couldn't stand it if you hurt because of me."

"All right." He went over to the dispenser unit, hit a couple of buttons, then returned with two extra hypos. "I've jabbed you often enough that you should know how to use one."

Jim nodded, then tapped the side of Bones' neck just above the scrubs.

"Right." He handed Jim one of the hypos. "This will wake me up. I'll sedate myself, but only if you give me your word you'll use it if you need me."

"No, I'll be-"

Bones cupped his face again. "It's my goddamned right to be there for you when you need me. You got that?"

He nodded, but no way in hell he was using the thing. "Now get on the fucking bed and get this over with."

A smile, then Bones stretched out on the bed. Just an ordinary one, not the type that practically told a doctor what a patient was dreaming. Not needed here. Just a lousy night's sleep and they were out of here. It reassured Jim Bones had decided all the bells and whistles weren't necessary, and he knew Bones had planned it that way.

Bones gave himself the first hypospray, and Jim felt his anxiety ease seeing the cure flow into him.

"Use the other one," he said, nodding toward the sedative.

Bones gave him a long look, then picked it up. "I love you."

Jim managed a smile. "Love you, too." He kissed him. "Now, go to sleep."

The hypo hissed, hazel eyes blinked twice, then closed.

He sat down in the chair next to the bed and took hold of Bones' hand. So strange to sit there trapped in the middle of his worst nightmare yet already knowing the anticlimactic end to the story. Made him feel like such a fool to worry at all, but part of him wanted to scream or break things or at least go out and start the biggest brawl ever, but he sat there instead watching Bones' face as it went from peaceful slumber to troubled.

His crew showed up five minutes later. Scotty, Sulu, Chekov, Uhura and even Spock, who might or might not end up on his ship, filed in. They brought chairs, bowls, spoons and a couple of gallons of ice cream. So Jim let them feed him, let them draw him into a planning session or as much of one as they could have with his CMO tossing and turning through the night.

Every once in awhile, he needed to stop and wipe the sweat from Bones' face, but mostly he sat there talking, while playing with the wedding ring on his husband's hand.

Around dawn, the soft sounds of distress stopped and the sweat dried up. It was over. Bones would wake soon. The others figured it out and began murmuring their goodbyes, then slipped out the door. All over, but Jim couldn't let one thing go. "Spock," he said, before the Vulcan could follow Uhura out.

"Yes, Captain?"

"What were the odds?"

"Odds, Captain?"

"If your counterpart hadn't said anything, what were the odds someone would have encountered the Fabrini in time to save Bones?"

Spock looked … uncomfortable. "Jim, perhaps –"

"Tell me."

"69,948,038,438,789,648.03 to 1."

God.

"However, the odds were equally high against you encountering any version of myself who would willingly allow someone you loved die."

A smile tugged at the corners of Jim's mouth. "An exaggeration, Spock?"

An eyebrow arched and no, that would never be sexy like when Bones did it, but it had its own charm. "Merely a certainty of character."

Jim grinned. "Thank you."

He nodded. "Good day, Captain."

Jim glanced toward the bed and saw the most beautiful hazel eyes in the universe open. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

end

**Author's Note:**

> I consulted Memory Alpha to write this. While it does detail what the disease is, it says nothing about HOW it is contracted, so I figured I could get away with this.
> 
> Finally, the title may seem weird, but in the original draft the idea of Spock sending the cure as a wedding present was more obvious. But I still think of it that way, so I didn't change the title.


End file.
